


I am the lilith's daughter (you don't know what i am capable of)

by ChillinLikeVillains



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bechdel Test Pass, Blood and Gore, Female Victor Frankenstein, Medical Experimentation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, slight fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillinLikeVillains/pseuds/ChillinLikeVillains
Summary: Keep your wordsKeep your love, if that's what you want to call it.Keep anything you could offer me.Nothing you can give me will make me satiated.I am so much more.


  
    Victoria was taught many things by her mother, but she only took two to heart:
  


  
    Death is anything but serene, and no matter how beautiful the poetry nothing can change that.Women are the true life-givers, and life is bloody, brutal, painful business.
  


  
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  


  
    Or, Victor is born Victoria, but her name still means "to conquer" and she still seeks to pierce the veil between life and death.





	

When Victoria entered work that night, everything was just as she left it the night before.

Charlie answered the door and quickly stepped aside, eyes firmly fixed on the floor. He was a nervous man, something about a childhood incident that left him with shaky hands and an inability to meet anyone’s eye. The moment the door opened she was on her way to the main room, mind too busy to acknowledge Charlie’s quiet, “Good evenin’ Vic”.

In her first days amongst the resurrection men, she had strived to answer him each evening. They had even chatted once or twice, a miracle according to the others. Now her mind was too loud, half-formed ideas and ragged thoughts fighting for dominance, each more vicious and brilliant than the last. She burned with them, and with each step towards the main room her began to beat faster and faster, a pounding rhythm that matched her footsteps.

She reached the main area, a corpse already present on each table and surgeons and their students gathered around the bodies. The lack of legality surrounding their trade meant most of the men glanced up, and the regulars immediately went back to their work. A few of the newcomers, all students, did a double take, and a few even attempted to catch her arm and stop her.

One succeeded, and the surgeon serving as his master went still. Victoria recognized the old man, a surgeon by the name of Garrett who was known for his bad luck with cadavers. For two years he had come to the resurrection men for subjects, and in that time she had yet to see him open up a body that didn’t have a deformed organ somewhere inside it. The two had developed a bartering system: she would give him healthy parts left over from her experiments, and he would hand over the deformed ones for her to study. It worked out rather nicely, and she respected him more than she did most of the men who dealt in the cadaver trade.

The student, however, she didn’t know, and while she ached to get to her research as soon as possible, physically removing the man’s arm from her person would stir up a fuss and possibly delay her even more than if she tried non-violent methods. Luckily she was saved from having to make a choice as Garrett chose that moment to speak up.

“Good evening, Victoria. I trust your experiments are going well?”

Victoria couldn’t help but smirk at his use of her first name. He knew that to use Miss would insult her, but to call her Doctor meant outright stating that not only had she gone to medical school, but she had graduated and gotten away with it.  _Better to be overly familiar than outright insulting_  drifted through her thoughts as she replied, “They are going just fine, Garrett. And your students? Still the best and the brightest you could get your hands on?” She gave a pointed look towards her arm, and the young man let go of her and moved back to his master’s side.

“Indeed. We are just about to start on the cardiovascular system, though this particular cadaver has a rather severe heart defect. I don’t suppose you have a healthy human heart I could show my students somewhere in your back room?” She arched an eyebrow, and the old man chuckled. “Of course you do. Would you mind giving it up for a few moments so I can demonstrate the differences between a healthy heart and a rather unhealthy one?”

“That depends on two things, old man,” she replied, and he nodded for her to continue. “Do you need any other parts?” A sheepish grin was all the answer she needed. “Give me a list and I’ll see what I still have. They may not be the freshest, but at least they are whole.” With that she turned and began to head for the back room. The head of this little operation was not the smartest man, but at least he recognized her intelligence. If she had been forced to work in the main room she’d have gone mad within months.

“My dear Victoria,” Garrett called out, and she couldn’t help but wince at the endearment. Overly familiar indeed. “What about the second thing?”

She didn’t break her stride as she called out over her shoulder, “Ensure the only bodies your students touch are the ones that are already dead. As I’m sure you’re aware,” she had reached the door to the back room and took a moment to look back, “no lady enjoys being touched without her permission.” She barely caught the look Garrett shot the student who grabbed her before the wooden door shut behind her, and she let herself relax now that she was finally alone.

The man in charge of the resurrection men, whom she dubbed Lazarus after he refused to reveal his real name, had already dropped by and left her a box of body parts, this time various legs with a few arms mixed in, as well as a note stating he expected her on hand the next night to help with a new shipment of subjects. She rolled her eyes, knowing he wasn’t requesting her, but Carmilla, who always accompanied her when a shipment arrived. Victoria may be smart, but she couldn’t match Carmilla’s brute strength that made the task of hauling hundreds of pounds of dead weight very, very easy.

Victoria rid herself of her jacket, throwing on an apron and tying it as quick as possible. Unfortunately, it was arms she needed this time, not legs, and she reluctantly set aside the box of limbs after removing the only two arms she could find. She took a seat, pulled her braid over her shoulder, set one arm to the side, lined the other up in front of her, and started.

She began by cutting the underside of the forearm from elbow to wrist and carefully removing the skin. After that was done she stripped away the muscles, intent on exposing as much of the tendons as she could manage. Time slipped away from her as she cut away as much of the muscular tissue as she dared, only stopping when she spotted the shiny white color typical of tendons.

While she carefully used a scalpel to clear as much red off the tendons as she could, she heard the door open. She didn’t dare disk turning her attention away from the delicate task at hand and merely spit out, “Speak quickly and clearly, then get out. I’ve neither the interest nor the time for interruptions.”

A shaky voice answered her. “I’m sorry to, to interrupt Miss, but Dr. Garrett asked me to give you the list you requested.” She would’ve rolled her eyes but a particularly stubborn bit of muscle was clinging to the middle tendon and she couldn’t afford to break eye contact.

“Then leave it on the table and I will get him what he asked for as soon as possible. Now leave, you’re breaking my concentration.”

The student dropped the piece of paper as far away from her as he could manage and nearly ran out the door, allowing it to slam behind him. The muscle finally came free and Victoria grinned, though mostly in amusement at the student’s quick departure.  _It’s amazing what a bit of blood and body parts can do to ensure peace and quiet_  she thought, idly tugging on the tendons and watching the fingers flex against the rigidity of rigor mortis.

Her grin became a scowl as she tugged a bit harder and realised the muscles in the fingers were almost completely locked up, making the experiment she had originally planned ruined. She took the limb and tossed it into the box full of legs before pulling the second arm directly in front of her. Unlike its twin, this arm was separated from the body above the elbow rather than below it, leaving the joint completely intact.

Rather than repeating her previous procedure, she decided to try and expose the joint from above rather than removing the skin and muscle covering it. With forceps in one hand and a scalpel close by, Victoria began picking at the blood and gore obstructing the joint from sight, hoping that the rest of the night would pass without any more interruptions.

Just then the door banged open once more.

She dimly registered the sound of footsteps (multiple sets; surgeons would approach her individually and students disliked facing her alone, making the latter more likely) and then the sound of a cart being pushed (an outsider seeking a service then; carts took too much time to be used every time a body needed to be moved). This time she did roll her eyes, though out of politeness she refrained from looking up so they could see.

“Your master said you might assist us,” an unfamiliar voice said, and had many others not made the same mistake she might have been offended. Instead she simply replied, “I have no master” and continued working.

“The proprietor out front, I mean,” the same man replied, and Victoria could have laughed. _Proprietor_  was a bit of a stretch for their line of work, but if he was proper enough to use it, politeness wouldn’t succeed in banishing him from the room. The bland, “Go away” that escaped her mouth would’ve made her governess weep at how rude it was, but Victoria merely wanted to continue her work.

Still, the man persisted. “I’ll pay you for your time.”

“You’d not afford it,” which is actually true. Her work, after all, is priceless.

“You’re very proud,” this time it was a woman who spoke, prompting Victoria to glance up. She was used to stepping on the toes of men, but women? They could be much more vicious if they felt slighted, and she did not plan on spending her night soothing wounded egos. So rather than another rejection, she suggested, “Take it to a slaughterhouse. I’m not a medical practitioner, I’m engaged in research.” Again, true, although this time only technically. She could be a medical practitioner, but what was interesting about the _l_ _iving_? No, the dead are much more fascinating with so much more potential than the living.

“You’re a man with a bloody knife like everybody else out there. So stop putting on airs.” A man’s voice again, but different from the first. American? Either way, she had to address him face to face now.

“I’m not a man, just like you’re not from around here. American?” He was quick to reply with, “You are clever,” before the first part of what she said registered. He finally seemed to notice the long braid that had slipped over her shoulder, hiding it from those who saw her from the back. Between the men’s clothing she wore and her habit of muttering, it was no wonder he mistook her for a man.

“I’m sorry Miss-,” she waved away his apology. “It doesn’t matter. Do you know anything about electrical currents? Your country is making such strides as we labor in the dark ages of coal and peat. Have you any experience with the principles and applications of galvanism?” Her excitement got the better of her, and his sarcastic, “Oh, the usual,” left her disappointed, and she turned back to her work on the arm.

Before she could get very far the first man spoke once more. “Miss, I have urgent need of a necropsy. Will you assist us?”

Without looking up, she replied, “I am occupied solely in research. I’ll not bore myself with explanations you could not possibly understand.” She stabbed a bit of muscle more viciously than intended, but her voice remained bland. “Now, kindly stop wasting my time and get out.”

She heard footsteps and then the sound of a sheet being pulled back. Her curiosity got the better of her and she glanced over her shoulder, only to go still.

This. This was _fascinating_.

She let out an involuntary, “My God” before instinct had her standing and moving towards the corpse. She began the standard checks always performed on a freshly arrived corpse.

“Lividity, null. Rigor mortis,” she bent the arm at the elbow “null.” An eyelid was peeled back. Then the other one. “Notable ocular hyperemia. Ocular reaction, null.” The lower jaw was pulled down and she almost gasped at what she found. “Dental malformation, not naturally occurring due to the isotropy.” She ran her thumb across the sharpened teeth. “Nature's rarely so neat, nature abhors symmetry.” She moved away from the head and down to the torso. “Trauma and penetration of the chest cavity through the manubrium seems the likely cause of death, but I expect you know that.” A quick check of the muscles of the thigh confirmed the muscular development of an adult, and yet, “Age of the subject is impossible to determine, the teeth seem barely used, which seems unlikely given the... muscular development.” She returned to her table only to grab a magnifying glass before returning to the corpse, using the item to examine the . . . creature’s . . . left side. “The dermis is unusual. Seems to lack the normal cutaneous exocrine pores.” She moved to the right side of the corpse and gestured towards the scalpel still sitting on the table. “Hand me that.”

It was the woman who grabbed the tool and handed it to Victoria handle first. Without hesitation, she leaned down and began to cut directly down the center of the chest, following a kind of seam on the corpse’s body. As the skin gave way to the blade, the answer seemed to jump out at her. “Well, I know why the skin seems so peculiar,” she muttered.

It was the British man who asked, “Why?” Before explaining she held out her hand requesting, “Forceps?” Once again, it was the woman who handed her the tool. She began to explain, “Because it isn’t skin. Not as we know it.” She lifted up the outer layer with the forceps and gently cut through the connective tissue underneath, “It’s more like a tensile exoskeleton, along the lines of an insect or crustacean.” She couldn’t help the admiration in her voice as she observed, “He must’ve been a hearty devil.” She almost missed the American’s, “You’re not kidding” and couldn’t help the verbal, “Hold on, what’s this?” that escaped her brain.

She peeled back the exoskeleton, revealing, “Fascinating.” She could almost feel her eyes begin to burn brighter, though Carmilla often told her it was the sleep deprivation that caused that feeling. The older man asked, “Hieroglyphics?”

“Egyptian?” she questioned back. His whispered “Undoubtedly” seemed to light her mind on fire as it tried to condense all she had learned about the corpse.

“Well, it would appear you have an Egyptian man of no particular age, who, at some point in his indeterminate lifespan, decided to sharpen his teeth, cover himself in hieroglyphics and grow an exoskeleton.” She lifted her eyes from the corpse only to meet the gaze of the apparent leader of the group. “Or you have something else altogether.”

Her words lingered in the air for a moment, before she snapped into action.

There would be no more experiments tonight. Not any that could take place in the resurrection men’s den, anyway. She needed to get back home, to her true lab, and work through what she saw as well as ensure her most recent project was ready for the next storm. But before she could do that, she had to get Garrett his requested pieces.

She nearly climbed over the body in her haste to reach the table and almost knocked the American man down in her rush. Her eyes skimmed over the list, and she nearly sighed in relief. A heart, a leg, and a kidney, two if she had a matching set. She grabbed a leg from the box on the other side of the table and slapped it down before rushing to the jars she kept scattered across multiple shelves. She read each label quickly and efficiently, grabbing the heart and kidneys from their resting places and setting them next to the leg.

Before she could arrange all three items in her arms and get out the door, she realized that the group was still standing there, though the cart with the body was gone. The American was staring at the heart, floating innocently in embalming fluid, while the woman seemed to be studying the leg. The leader was the only one watching her, and the moment they made eye contact she started speaking.

“It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen and lady, but I must be going.” She stuffed the leg under her arm and carried one jar in each hand. She was halfway towards the door by the time she said, “Good luck in your . . . endeavors,” and barely managed to hear the leader say something about compensating her before she was gone.

Victoria literally _threw_  the items Garrett requested at one of his students and was off running before he could do more than shout in surprise. Charlie, that lovely man, heard the commotion and had the door open and waiting by the time she reached the entrance. She shouted out a, “Thanks Charlie!” because the man truly deserved it before she was off, sprinting through the streets regardless of who was in her way, and she had no intention of stopping.

She had so much to tell Carmilla.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete re-write of the series with fem!Victor as well as fem!Caliban. This, naturally, will change a few things as we go through the episodes and I will strive to avoid simply rewriting canon with female pronouns instead of male. The biggest change the first season will experience is removing Caliban as an antagonist of Victor/Victoria. There will still be a demon from her past that shows up to haunt her, but it will not be her first creation. Again, this will change a few things, including the survival of certain characters. But I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, I could use some feedback, as well as an answer to a question: should Proteus also be female? I've outlined the fic, and while it wouldn't make too much of a difference if he was a she, I still can't decide.
> 
> Let me know what you think?


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